


Possibilities

by NevillesGran



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mind Control, Other, another darkest timeline (sorry?), these tags are spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:10:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevillesGran/pseuds/NevillesGran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They called it the Tripartite Pact, officially, or the Alliance more casually. Or the New Pax or the Heterodyne’s Peace (now there was an oxymoron, the elderly grumbled), or the Three-Way Accords. However you said it, it was as if Europa had collectively drawn a very deep breath, ready to plunge into battle screaming, and then, very slowly, let it out instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibilities

They called it the Tripartite Pact, officially, or the Alliance more casually. Or the New Pax or the Heterodyne’s Peace (now _there_ was an oxymoron, the elderly grumbled), or the Three-Way Accords. Or the Three _some_ Accords, in the beer halls, with waggled eyebrows. However you said it, it was as if Europa had collectively drawn a very deep breath, ready to plunge into battle screaming, and then, very slowly, let it out instead. Rather than go to bloody war, the younger Wulfenbach and the nascent Storm King had made peace over Europa, with the guiding aid of the new Lady Heterodyne, and everything was…well.

There had been some fighting, of course. Mechanicsburg frozen, the old Baron lost, the Long War and the Other both returning at once. But then they had stopped it, the King and the Lady and the new Baron. The stories were wilder with every retelling: they had found the Heterodyne Boys again, they had travelled in time, they had turned the Dyne into rain and used it to wash away every revenant in Europa _and_ on the _moon_ , and nobody quite remembered because they accidentally started to wash away the sun as well and had to do a hard reset of the galaxy (“Sparks,” someone would mutter like a curse) in order to set it to right again. _And_ they had faced down Albia in her own hall, turned the lost Americas into pudding and back, _and_ all died and revived each other with true love’s kiss. (“But how’d they kiss each other if they were all dead?” “They didn’t all die at once. It was one after another, duh.”)

Well, perhaps the last one was believable. The Pact, or whatever it was called, was sealed with a three-way marriage, in Sturmhalten itself, where centuries before the first Storm King and Heterodyne Girl had drawn swords on their wedding day. This time, Mechanicsburg’s smokestacks were more than silent on the horizon, still frozen in time, but at least the only weapons were in salute, and the War was not so Long after all. Even the Geisterdamen followed the Lady Heterodyne, with her mother gone for good.

The elderly grumbled, but the elderly always grumbled, and what else could they do? Heterodynes did what they willed no matter the circumstances, and the young Baron and Storm King seemed to follow her lead. The general consensus was that they had brought peace and prosperity, and they were sparks and royalty or worse, so what they did behind closed doors was really their own business.

.

_Behind closed doors:_

The Lady of Mechanicsburg, expatriate but ruling an empire instead, flung herself onto her bed on Castle Wulfenbach, in what was once the old Baron’s suite. “What a dreadful day. I _loathe_ talking with people who don’t just agree with me.” She rolled onto her back, propped up on the copious pillows. “Boys, attend.”

Tarvek knelt obediently and began taking off her shoes—elegant laced sandals, nothing like the practical boots Agatha used to wear. He didn’t bother glancing back at Gil, who remained standing by the bedroom door—at attention, of course. _Attend_. Gil never bent if there was a chance he could get himself broken instead.

At least Lucrezia enjoyed it, a saving grace for so many reasons. She propped herself up on one elbow. “Gil, come,” she ordered, patting the mattress at her side. When he sat, she pulled him further down and carded her fingers through his hair with a smile. “Really, darling, you’re as much trouble as your father was.”

Gil didn’t speak, because he wasn’t allowed to do that in private anymore without permission. He’d refused to stop trying to talk to Agatha. He could, at least, glare mutinously. (In public, all three of them pretended this was still Agatha. Not enough of Europa was wasped yet to drop the façade.)

Perhaps it was being back on Castle Wulfenbach, but Tarvek sometimes found himself thinking that Madame von Pinn—Otilia—should come save them. If only she’d woken up in the lab under the Castle, somehow gotten the locket back on Agatha before Lucrezia used those damn machines…

It was just a deflection. Tarvek was the one Lucrezia had gotten the jump on. He should have moved faster, should have remembered who she was sooner. Now everybody who could tell the difference was wasped, dead, or frozen in Mechanicsburg, and Europa was falling like a slow-motion carriage crash that nobody could see until it was too late.

His fingers hovered over the buttons on her dress. “My lady?” (It was always better to ask permission, to acquiesce. Tarvek could still speak whenever and however he wanted.)

Lucrezia stretched her daughter’s body languorously, giving Tarvek a better angle at the buttons at her side. “Yes, do. Shirts off first though, both of you.”

There was just enough snap in her voice that Gil and Tarvek started moving automatically, shedding layers. The Lady watched the show with a contented smirk playing on her lips.

(They’d get Agatha back eventually. They had to.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I...might actually regret this one. (Yes, Klaus still froze Mechanicsburg with himself inside, but it backfired this time.)


End file.
